Not Quite Shiny & New

But not quite dilapidated and old yet. The resurrecting of former posts is a thing I usually save for year-end recaps or anniversaries, but when feeling under the weather, I occasionally delve into nostalgia, or simply scrape the barrel to find scraps of things that together will assemble into a proper post when I’m too light-headed and delirious to do it the right way. Hence this smorgasbord of previous posts, assembled and conveniently hyper-high-lighted to give you access to posts that otherwise may have gone mercifully unnoticed prior to this. It appears my sentences get longer and more convoluted as this post goes on, twisting and turning into… oh blah, blah, blah. Here, read some things that may make more sense:

Like the First Time I Kissed a Man

Or the Madonna Timeline of the earliest of Spring

And one of the first letters I wrote to my niece & nephew

Long before Madonna got spanked by Instagram, I got spanked by FaceBook

And an Ilagan tradition, that was supposed to be just between brothers.

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Count On It

“I’ll bury my grief deep inside me and I’ll make it so secret and obscure that you won’t even have to take the trouble to sympathize with me.” ~ Alexandre Dumas

“I ought to have left without seeing you again, like the benefactor in a novel, but such virtue was beyond my strength because I’m a weak and vain man, because it does me good to see gratitude, joy and affection in the eyes of my fellow men. I’m leaving now, and I carry my egotism to the point of saying: Don’t forget me, my friends, for you will probably never see me again.” ~ Alexandre Dumas

“I will always be what I am. That is why I tell you things you have never heard before, even from the lips of a king, for kings have need of you and other men are afraid of you.” ~ Alexandre Dumas

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A Dangerous Thing

He was bored by his own necessary lies. How he longed to tell them exactly what he was! He wondered suddenly what would happen if every man like himself were to be natural and honest. Life would certainly be better for everyone in a world where sex was thought of as something natural and not fearsome, and men could love men naturally, in the way they were meant to, as well as to love women naturally, in the way they were meant to. But even as he sat at the table, pondering freedom, he knew that it was a dangerous thing to be an honest man; finally he lacked the courage. ~ Gore Vidal, The City and the Pillar
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Wearing David Beckham’s Undies

This has happened to me before: the idea of getting into David Beckham’s underwear is always more thrilling than the actual event. Mr. Beckham‘s latest offerings from H&M are slightly changed from the first run, but I still have to admit that I’m more of a fan of them on him than on me. The boxer briefs are a bit snug – and for a footballer that seems at odds with his body. He would do better to take a lesson from Bonobos and allow room for some junk-in-the-trunk. Of course, perhaps the manufacturers are not banking on us having footballer bodies (which in my case is a very good thing.) The fabric is a definite improvement from the cheap modal-like blend that ruined his entry into the underwear world, but I’m still not sold on the longevity of such a brand, or its products. He’s got a long way to go before threatening Calvin Klein. That said, I did enjoy the top and the additional colors (an army fatigue green and a darker blue are vastly more interesting than the black, white, and gray palette of before, if still bland as beige). For now, though, this line is mostly just a vehicle to see Beckham in his briefs, and I can’t complain about that.

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Bitchy, Blunt, Braze Oscar Commentary

This is how this post is going to work: I’m going to put all my random thoughts and musings up here as we go from Red Carpet to the interminable last minutes of this evening’s Oscar Awards. That means it’s going to be intermittently updated throughout the night (which is the polite way of telling you to bookmark this bitch now). I’ve been put in a foul mood by the weather and other events, so the same catty cruelty you saw at work during the Grammys is in effect ten-fold tonight, and I’m joining force with a martini to make it all the more offensive. Move over Joan Rivers, I can still move my mouth…

(If you want to join in the fun, put it on E! and their red carpet show from 5:30 to 7:00 PM, at which point I’ll switch over to ABC’s arrival coverage.)

  •  The bigger the hair, the gayer the Red Carpet host. Oh, hi Ryan Seacrest.
  • Giuliana Rancic took a risk and got her hair chopped off the morning of the Oscars, and it paid off beautifully. Once again, though, her structural dress works against her gorgeous body.
  • Eddie Redmayne – look out, there’s a cockatoo on your head! Oh, wait…
  • Jessica Chastain – digging the Lana vibe, but the dress doesn’t impress. PS – Apologies for the balding comment a few award shows ago. The hair looks good.
  • Channeling a bun from the 1800’s, it’s Amy Adams!
  • Samantha Barks ~ the walking ad for double-sided tape.
  • Channing Tatum – serviceable in a tux, more easily serviceable out of it.
  • Little Q ~ Your cuteness and puppy purse are beyond my reach. My powers are no match for this…
  • Reese Witherspoon in Louis Vuitton – perfection, and I love the bold color.
  • I am trying to be bitchy, but Octavia Spencer looks good from the breasts up.
  • Kerry Washington – the dress is a bit of a situation. Not in the best way. Do you want the curve there?
  • Daniel Radcliffe is shorter than Ryan Seacrest. You know Ryan wants to marry him.
  • Jacki Weaver – Drag queens got nothing on you.
  • If a guy is in a black tux, there’s not much I’m going to say. Hoping they mess it up with bad hair or a heinous tie…
  • Melissa McCarthy – big hair, big dress, big, big, BIG.
  • Zoe Seldana – I love that dress, best so far…
  • Amanda Seyfried in Alexander McQueen – not sure about the neck area…
  • Oh look, Jennifer Lawrence is here for the prom… err, her wedding… but regardless she looks good.
  • Please tell me Joseph Gordon Levitt is not dating Sally Field… and Sally, while red is your color, that dress is not your friend.
  • Switching from E! to ABC… and already dismayed by Kristin Chenoweth, whom I love almost always. The ‘almost’ refers to tonight.
  • Jennifer Hudson & Roberto Cavalli – you work better apart than together.
  • Catherine Zeta Jones – I want your hyperbolic sleeping chamber, a.k.a. time machine. So does Ryan Seacrest – bitch was so jealous he wouldn’t let you do the Manicam.
  • So far I stand by Zoe Seldana as my fave dress of the evening. Reminds me of the divisive Cate Blanchett Givenchy dress a few years ago, which I  adored.
  • At least Charlize Theron was completely consistent: unflattering in every way.
  • I’m torn about Naomi Watts… not unlike her dress.
  • Good God – I’m dressed like Bradley Cooper’s mother. (Hey, if I can give it I can take it.)
  • Anne Hathaway – glorified bib.
  • Nicole Kidman I adore thee.
  • Ben Affleck – bringing the beard back! And I don’t mean Jennifer (she looks fine!)
  • Hugh Jackman’s wife – finally confirmed as a man. I knew it!! (And I’m referring only to the mannish tux.)
  • So what’s the protocol, is it wrong to critique the mothers that hot guys bring as dates? UPDATE: According to someone on FB, mothers are off-limits. I will say only this: my mother would know better. At least, I would tell her better.
  • Salma Hayek – please don’t masturbate in that. No way to go…
  • Jennifer Garner – Love the color, love the back, love the necklace… but the torso is… not right… and sorry about the beard comment.
  • Is it another promo for Jack & the Beanstalk? No, it’s Kristin Chenoweth & Adele.
  • When my beard comes in more white than black, I won’t grow it out. Talking to you George Clooney.
  • I was sure I’d seen Sandra Bullock’s hairclip somewhere before… oh yeah, any mall kiosk since 1983.
  • So.. the producers of the Oscars are gay. [Faints from shock.]
  • Remind me again who Seth MacFarlane is? And what is he doing on the Phantom of the Opera set?
  • I think it was better before I knew who Seth MacFarlane was…. this already sucks.
  • Oh good – a Disney tune to remind of the Snow White debacle. Smart move, Seth.
  • Incidentally, and no offense, but out of curiosity, did Charlize Theron put on weight for an upcoming role? I mean, I did too…
  • Bored by the flippant tone of the Oscars already. For people who supposedly know how to make movies, WTF?
  • Samuel Jackson – you have me rethinking my love of a velvet jacket.
  • Why can’t the cast of ‘The Avengers host the Oscars?
  • Did Gandalf the White just win an Oscar?
  • Jennifer Aniston – classy, elegant, and radiant. Loving the red!
  • Makeup & Hairstyling clearly don’t translate to wardrobe.
  • Halle Berry – let’s be honest: this is the only job you’ve had since ‘Monster’s Ball’, right?
  • Dame Shirley Bassey may have single-handedly saved the show… for the moment.
  • At times like this I wish I wasn’t gay, so I could shut this crap off. But it’s in the handbook.
  • John Travolta introducing the musicals. It wrote itself.
  • Catherine Zeta Jones just killed it. About damn time.
  • And Jennifer Hudson just brought it back to life.
  • Helena Bonham Carter – you slay me! And I love that we can’t tell if you were in character, or if that’s what you actually wore to the Oscars!
  • And now we have Gandalf the Red…
  • Followed immediately by Gandalf the Blonde.
  • Will Anne start singing along to the Jaws theme?
  • Adele always has amazing hair. I will give her that. And what an amazing performance.
  • I take back my early praise for Nicole Kidman’s dress.
  • Kristen Stewart – there’s really no make-up for that bruise? Not that you care at this moment, as you are clearly feeling no pain.
  • They haven’t even done the ‘In Memoriam’ part yet – is it too soon to add this broadcast to that list?
  • Barbra Streisand – over-accessorized to the max. Revoke my gay card once and for all.
  • Peace out Quentin!
  • Jane Fonda has turned back time. Nice color too -even if the style is a bit ‘Dynasty’…
  • Is Seth MacFarlane starting to look like Peter Brady to anyone else? Is it time to change? Porkchops & applesauce?
  • Jennifer Lawrence’s fall WAS her acceptance speech, and it was the best one of the night.
  • The FLOTUS at the Oscars? Good night.
  • Did Ben Affleck just have a nervous breakdown on stage? Riveting.
  • A closing musical number? Here’s to the losers… dedicated to this damn show.

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The Magnificence of Marimekko

Marimekko is about living, not pretending. Marimekko is about understanding and accepting the beauty of life just as we encounter it every day.” ~ Mika Ihamuotila

This is the time of the year when I start shaking the cobwebs out of my head, and my home, and look toward the coming of Spring. There is no happier time, and no happier place, for me to be in the next few months than in the bedroom of our Boston place, around the two to three PM hours when the sun is slanting deeply through the slatted blinds of the Bay Window, and the curtains are parted to let in a new breeze. Every year, I try to do something to freshen the palette of the place – a new piece of furniture, a new group of towels, a fresh coat of paint. At its most basic, it’s just another variation on Spring cleaning. And the time to prepare is now.

This year, I have my sight set on a new bed set, to go along with our new bed. We’ve been using the same Calvin Klein Bamboo bedding since 1998 – and while it’s a classic, it’s time for something new. For some time, I’ve been flirting rather violently with the Marimekko bedding line at Crate & Barrel. Part of me – the very heart of my most intrinsic instincts – was instantly drawn to the bold colors, their courageous juxtaposition, and the almost-childlike strokes of abstract design. The other part of me – the more pragmatic, thoughtful, quiet side that refuses to give in to a trendy look that will be annoying and out of style a scant year later – has always had an issue with the line. Over the past few years, however, I’ve found both parts come together to meet in a happy middle. (It’s also been long enough to know whether or not I would tire of it, and I haven’t – if anything, my initial amusement and delight with it has only grown and deepened into something more – which is the best way to tell whether or not you can live with something for a while.)

On my last trip to Crate & Barrel, I saw the above bedding set, named ‘Lumimarja Celery‘. It perfectly captures the spirit of the bedroom in the earliest of Spring – light, airy, fresh, and slightly whimsical. (“Lumimarja” translates to ‘snowberry’, the inside of which looks like a snowflake – a fitting bridge between Winter and Spring, lending it a year-round usefulness. I remember the snowberry bushes in the side-yard of my childhood home, and picking their fruit on summer days by the pool.) This set retains the touches of nature that were such an important part of the previous duvet, but brings it to a different plane, both in its abstraction, and its punch of bright green color. As fortune would have it, the color of the trunk and branches is almost an exact match to the silk headboard already in place, so the signs have once again aligned, as they tend to do when you’re on the right track in matters of design.

To add another accent, and prevent things from getting too matchy-matchy (the death-knell for so many bedding collections) I also found this Azure line, from which I intend to cull a few pillows so as not to forsake all bits of blue from the bedroom. They have a nice linen aspect to their shams, giving another texture, as well as color, to the bed.

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Naked Flight

We’re so hard, aren’t we, on people who are given everything? If you’d been given everything, you mightn’t have wandered very far from the pool deck, though perhaps you wouldn’t have spent quite so much time in the direct sun. It’s as if, when someone has it all, we demand that he be tormented by some pointless ambition for more. Here he is, rich and handsome, beating off women with a stick, and he’s supposed to go have adventures, try himself somehow, scour the earth for some unhappiness. ~ Mark Merlis, An Arrow’s Flight

Maybe they really were lovers, maybe this at last was what the word meant: your lover was the one you had to shelter from the worst things you knew about yourself. Yes, this had to be it, the hot shame and, somewhere beneath it, a strange, hopeless sort of jubilation. ~ Mark Merlis, An Arrow’s Flight

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Flight of an Arrow

Maybe it wasn’t ever easy being a man, but it was surely easier when what you were to wear, whether armor or the loincloth of a slave, was handed to you off the rack at birth, along with what you were expected to feel and do. ~ Mark Merlis, An Arrow’s Flight

He had allowed men to love him; he had never induced it.

Really, never at all? Not the way he had dressed, or the attitudes he had struck when he had sensed that an attitude was desired? All right, he was practiced in making himself lovable. Men didn’t just happen upon him in a state of nature and fall head over heels. Still, it was one thing to put forth your little generic flower of masculinity and wait for some bee to come suck it, and quite another to set your sights on one particular bee. ~ Mark Merlis, An Arrow’s Flight

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One Night Only

Absence is one of the most useful ingredients of family life, and to do it rightly is an art like any other. ~ Freya Stark

As I write this, I have returned a day early from an ill-fated trip to Boston with my brother. One day I’ll write about what all went down, or maybe I won’t – that’s one of the hazards of having a writer in the family – writers don’t forget. For now, it will suffice that I’m back home, and the next time I go to Boston it will be alone or with Andy. The unfortunate thing about family, especially for a control freak, is that you have no choice or say in the matter, and that goes both ways – I am certain none of these people would have chosen me either. After years of trying to reconcile this, after years of fighting against it and trying every conceivable way in the world to make something work, to make myself the slightest bit lovable, it’s time to move on.

For his noble efforts in picking me up (and beating the storm), I bought a bouquet of pink hyacinths for Andy. When the family that God grants us disappoints or doesn’t care, we have to create our own. Over the past twenty years, I have unwittingly done that, and, as witnessed on nights like the last, they have never let me down. It’s a strange thing when the ones who are supposed to love you simply don’t – or can’t – and it creates all sorts of fucked-up ailments and afflictions that in turn tend to drive people even further away. Luckily, there has always been someone else to step in, to see through the hurt, to forge ahead into the heart because they knew there was love to be found. And when there’s no familial bond keeping them there, when you see they are there in your life because they want to be, and you don’t have to keep asking and begging and making all the effort yourself, they are all the more dear.

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Waiting & Wanting for Spring

I didn’t feel it until this week: the antsy anticipation for spring to arrive. Up until now I’d been keeping my head down and shuffling along, bundled up and trudging through the endless unfurling of winter, in the hopes that when I looked up again spring would be on the horizon. I looked up too soon. We’re nowhere near it. The frigid temperatures, the wind, and the snow and sleet are instead indicative of a winter not content to take flight anytime soon. This refusal to yield has proven problematic in the past. Usually it results in some last-ditch-effort at sanity-retrieval in the form of a trip South. I am looking into it as I write this, because there is nothing here that appeals to me.

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Oh What A Circus

Oh what a show!

It’s quite a Sunset

But who is this Santa Evita?

Why all this howling, hysterical sorrow?

What kind of Goddess has lived among us?

 

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Take My Hand, We’ll Make It I Swear

The year was 1987.

The hair was big.

The jeans were ripped.

And we were all just living on a prayer.

The Ilagan household had just gotten their first taste of cable on a television that you didn’t need to change channels manually (about five years after all the other kids had it). Say what you will about being the son of a doctor – there were hardships and lessons too. As kids, we didn’t always notice this, but the absence of MTV was a social stigma, leaving us to pretend we knew what everyone at school was talking about, faking our way through the minefields of peer-pressure and not wanting to be left out of the loop. I was pretty upfront about my ignorance, rapping along with the kids who sang Run DMC, only I was saying, “You be L.A.” instead of “You be illin’.” No one seemed to notice. That’s the thing about pretending – sometimes, if you’re really good at it, it becomes truth, and the knowledge that you never had, but that they think you possess, turns into currency, and respect. Even if it’s built on a lie, on a fucked-up lyric taken as slang.

We’ve got to hold on to what we’ve got
‘Cause it doesn’t make a difference
If we make it or not
We’ve got each other and that’s a lot
For love – we’ll give it a shot

   Whoah, we’re half way there
   Livin’ on a prayer
   Take my hand and we’ll make it – I swear
   Livin’ on a prayer

This was the time of the school year when the kids started getting crazy with homebound restlessness, and my squirrelly self was no exception. I watched this video with rapt wonder – not exactly a fan of the style (frizzed-out perms were never for me, nor should they be for anyone) – but more for the anthemic quality of wanting to fly beyond the small-town childhood so many of us longed to leave, soaring above like Jon did on stage. I wanted to take flight in such a manner, lift off the ground, see it grow small beneath my weightless feet. Propelled by a wish and a prayer…

 

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Bed Clothes

You sure are pretty
When you’re putting the damage on
Yes
When you’re putting the damage on

You’re just so pretty
When you’re putting the damage on

 

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Sprawled Naked

“The body in the mirror forces me to turn and face it. And I look at my body, which is under sentence of death. It is lean, hard, and cold, the incarnation of a mystery. And I do not know what moves in this body, what this body is searching. It is trapped in my mirror as it is trapped in time and it hurries toward revelation….” ~ James Baldwin, Giovanni’s Room

“I long to make this prophecy come true. I long to crack that mirror and be free. I look at my sex, my troubling sex, and wonder how it can be redeemed, how I can save it from the knife. The journey to the grave is already begun, the journey to corruption is, always, already, half over. Yet, the key to my salvation, which cannot save my body, is hidden in my flesh.” ~ James Baldwin, Giovanni’s Room

“Then the door is before him. There is darkness all around him, there is silence in him. Then the door opens and he stands alone, the whole world falling away from him. And the brief corner of the sky seems to be shrieking, though he does not hear a sound. Then the earth tilts, he is thrown forward on his face in darkness, and his journey begins.” ~ James Baldwin, Giovanni’s Room

“I move at last from the mirror and begin to cover that nakedness which I must hold sacred, though it be ever so vile, which must be scoured perpetually with the salt of my life. I must believe, I must believe, that the heavy grace of God, which has brought me to this place, is all that can carry me out of it.” ~ James Baldwin, Giovanni’s Room

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